


wild thoughts

by friday



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Animal Transformation, Gen, M/M, half crack, the hyungs are there too, the other half uses animal transformation as a vehicle for Feelings, too lazy to tag all of them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-17
Updated: 2018-09-17
Packaged: 2019-07-13 09:16:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16014890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/friday/pseuds/friday
Summary: There comes a time in every SM boy idol’s life when there is the possibility that he might turn into an animal at a moment’s notice. Apparently, this was a thing that spanned all the way back to their DBSK hyungs.Jeno’s traitorous brain tries to imagine Jung Yunho as any kind of rodent, before immediately short-circuiting out of self-preservation.(Or, five times an NCT Dream member turned into an animal.)





	wild thoughts

**Author's Note:**

> title is from the dj khaled song lol

**1.)**

Jisung is the first to change.

He gets spirited out of practice a few weeks before they have to leave for SMTown Osaka, and when he returns, he’s even more stone-faced than usual.

“Turn that frown upside down,” Jaemin offers, reaching out to pat Jisung on the butt as he walks past.

“I’m fine,” Jisung says, tightly. And then, a little quietly: “...I got confirmed for Dancing High.”

He pulls a face. No one has the heart to point out that confirmation had never really been in question in the first place, just like how it had been obvious the minute their managers had floated the idea of High School Rapper to Mark that he was going to be casted. Mark and Jisung’s prodigious talents aside, SM was always going to be SM, and idols on any kind of skills competition show were always going to be idols.

That brand of public opinion had made Jeno feel indignant when Mark went on High School Rapper, though his indignation was nothing compared to Donghyuck’s, who’d taken to stalking the comments sections of Naver articles, upvoting anything that was even remotely complimentary and barely restraining himself from flaming every derisive commenter.

It had all been swept away when they went to the recording for the last episode, though. People didn’t like idol rappers, _whatever_. When the lights dimmed and the beat dropped, Jeno looked at Mark, dressed all in white, carrying the stage with ease, and he’d felt proud. That was _his_ friend and leader up there. From the way Donghyuck’s palm, sweaty and anxious, found his, he knew he hadn’t been alone in the feeling.

Jeno is even less worried about Jisung, who carries in his gangly, growing body the potential to be a top three dancer in their company one day. Still, just because Jeno, and everyone else, knows Jisung’s going to kill it on Dancing High, having the confirmation in hand nonetheless leaves their characteristically stoic maknae even more so than usual, which in turn imbues a nervous energy in the rest of them that leaves them wired and jittery.

They've just finished a Black on Black runthrough when Jisung breaks formation, grabbing a bottle of water at random.

“I feel a little nauseous,” he mumbles, when Taeyong, owner of the water bottle, throws him a look of concern. “Actually, I kind of need to—”

What Jisung kind of needs is lost to the ether, because one second Jeno’s looking at Jisung, sweaty and a bit pale but otherwise fine, and the next second he's looking at a little white mouse, peeking out from a pile of black workout clothing, looking about as stunned as Jeno feels.

 

 

“Holy shit,” Mark has been repeating in the background for at least the last five minutes. “Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit.”

“Did that just happen?” Jaemin asks, hitting Jeno’s arm. “Did you just see that? Did _I_ just see that? Is collective hallucination a thing?”

Jeno has his eyes closed, partly because Jaemin is kind of hurting his arm, but also because he's trying to remember the meditation exercises their dance teacher taught them.

 _I am in a field of flowers_ , Jeno thinks, trying to find his zen. _I am cuddling Bongshik because I am allergy-free, and I am at peace with myself and the world._

“Stay calm,” Mark, on autopilot mode, is now saying. His voice is pitched at an extremely uncalm level. “Everyone,” he repeats. “Stay calm.”

The only person heeding his advice is Chenle, who has scooped mouse-Jisung up in his hands, and is whispering to him. After a minute of this, mouse-Jisung finally stops trembling, and uncurls his body so he can run up the length of Chenle’s arm, settling behind his ear. He’s pure white and tiny, about the size of Jeno’s palm. When he twitches his nose, Jeno can see the resemblance.

“Holy shit,” he breathes, the reality of the situation finally hitting him.

“Guys.” Johnny’s voice cuts through the din and Jeno’s nascent panic attack. “Guys, calm down. It’s fine.”

 

 

It’s fine. The way Johnny and the rest of the hyungs tell it, it’s just a—a thing that happens, sometimes, in moments of deep distress or anxiety. Most people change back within twenty-four hours, so either way, Jisung is bound to be back by tomorrow night.

“It’s really nothing to worry about,” Doyoung says soothingly. “It’s almost tradition at this point!” Apparently, there comes a time in every SM boy idol’s life when there is a possibility he might turn into an animal at a moment’s notice. Apparently, this was a thing that spanned all the way back to their DBSK hyungs.

Jeno’s traitorous brain tries to imagine Jung Yunho as any kind of rodent, before immediately short-circuiting out of self-preservation.

“Wait.” Renjun sounds incredulous. It’s the tone of voice that, if used in the dorms, Jeno would be scrambling away real quick, because it meant a headlock was about to be in someone’s immediate future. “Are you saying that there’s a possibility that all of us could _turn into animals_?”

RIP, Wong Yukhei, who made the fatal mistake of standing next to Huang Renjun when he was in one of his moods. You didn’t live that long or that illustrious of a life, but whatever.

 

 

Jisung turns back before lunchtime the next day, just as Johnny promised.

“Moments of deep distress or anxiety, eh?” Jaemin says, fingers already in a pinch on Jisung’s cheek. “You know hyung’s bosom is always here for you to cry into, right?”

Jisung reflexively drops his eyes to Jaemin’s flat chest, before tearing them away, looking disgusted with himself. He slaps at Jaemin’s hand. “Thanks but no thanks, hyung. I almost _died_ last night. I’m not scared of anything anymore.”

A fearless Jisung sounds actually terrifying, Jeno thinks. Next to him, Chenle is busy putting a selca that he took of himself with mouse-Jisung through five different filters.

“What do you think, hyung?” he asks, sounding satisfied as he shows the picture on his phone to Jeno. “I’m going to post this when Dancing High airs.”

 

* * *

 

**2.)**

Mark is second, which probably makes it the first time he’s ever been second in his life.

Jeno’s having a very pleasant dream when a frantic pounding interrupts it.

“Jeno! Wake the fuck up!”

What the fuck. He’s definitely spending way too much time with Jaemin if he’s hearing his voice in his dreams. He’ll have to consider making some lifestyle changes in the morning. In the meantime, he pulls his covers up over his head, trying to will wakefulness away.

The next thing he knows, his covers are being pulled away from him. He looks up, squinting. Oh wait, it actually _is_ Jaemin. And Jungwoo, who looks like he didn’t sign up for this. Well, tough luck, Jungwoo-hyung, because Jeno didn’t either.

“Put your glasses on!” Jaemin practically shrieks at him.

Jeno shoves his glasses onto his face. The sudden clarity means Jeno can make out that there’s something in Jaemin’s arms that looks like… a bunch of ugly clothing?

“Uhh,” Jeno says, apprehensively taking in the color rapidly crawling up Jaemin’s neck. “Are you okay? Where’s Mark-hyung?”

Wordless, Jaemin thrusts the pile of ugly clothing in his arms at Jeno. Jeno automatically accepts it. Then the pile of ugly clothing _moves_.

“What the _fuck_ —” Jeno yelps, because there’s a goddamn _lion cub_ in his arms. He doesn’t drop it, though, because even though its full-sized brethren could literally tear Jeno from limb to limb, this one is kind of—well, it’s really cute.

“Oh my God, is that _Mark_?” Jungwoo coos, early morning transgression forgiven. He reaches out a hand to pet him, and lion-Mark attaches himself to it by his teeth, which, judging by Jungwoo’s lack of reaction, haven’t fully grown in yet. “Wow, _cute_.”

Jeno unwraps lion-Mark from his cocoon of ugly clothing, which Jeno notes has come straight from Mark’s own closet. No wonder lion-Mark looks so disgruntled. Lion-Mark’s about the size of Seolie on a diet, and likes scratches behind the ear just as much. Jeno’s allergies also haven’t flared up at all, and he’s forced to push away the thought that he kind of wishes Mark could stay like this forever. NCT needs their Mark Lee as a human, probably.

Once lion-Mark’s been placated and distracted by Jungwoo, Jeno looks back up at Jaemin.

“What did you _do_?”

“Why do you just assume _I’ve_ done something?” Jaemin sulks. But his eyes are darting around, not meeting Jeno’s, and they haven’t been friends for this long for nothing.

“Na Jaemin,” Jeno says, in his sternest voice.

“Lee Jeno,” Jaemin mutters back.

Jeno waits. Jaemin’s best quality is his persistence, but Jeno’s always been more patient. Finally, Jaemin cracks.

“Fine, fine,” Jaemin says, exhaling. “Fine.”

 

 

“You called him _oppa_?”

Mark’s shoulders are going to swallow his ears at this point. “Can you, I don’t know, _keep it down_ ,” he hisses at Donghyuck.

They’re at breakfast with everyone, and Seulgi just walked by behind them.

“Sor-ry,” Donghyuck says, not looking sorry at all. He turns his attention back to Jaemin. “So, you did?”

Mark had turned back about thirty minutes after Jaemin had barged into Jeno’s room, because God forbid a silly thing like animal transformation keep Mark from being on schedule. Jaemin and Jeno had gotten it together enough to call in the heavy-duty reinforcements by that point (Johnny and Kun, and bringing up the rear were Doyoung and Yuta, who had their phones out and at the ready). Jeno had gotten dressed while Johnny and Kun took turns scolding Jaemin. It was awesome, and Yuta had gotten it all on camera. Jeno had to promise he would give Yuta massages for a month to get the footage, but it was so worth it.

Jaemin nods, looking proud.

“Ugh,” Donghyuck is saying admiringly, popping a piece of rolled egg into his mouth. “I hate to say this, but. Mad respect, Jaemin.”

 

* * *

 

**3.)**

Renjun and Jaemin are next, and they change at the same time.

The night We Go Up drops, they stay up, as is customary, to see how they’ll chart.

Jeno loves this song, this mini. He loves all their songs, obviously (the ones without Jaemin maybe a little less), but this one feels special. And it’s not just because it might be Mark’s last song with them, a fact they are all assiduously avoiding mentioning, though it’s definitely part of the nervous energy in the air. Of course, they all want the song to do well because they’re proud of what they’ve accomplished and they want their fans to be proud of them. But also, they want to the song to do well for Mark, too.

“What if I cry,” Jeno jokes to Donghyuck, as they all arrange themselves in various positions of repose around the practice room. Donghyuck is cross-legged, scrolling mindlessly down the front page of Pann. Jeno is leaning against his back, texting his parents.

“I’ll get it on camera and sell it to Doyoung-hyung for a hundred thousand won,” Donghyuck replies promptly, like he’s been thinking about it for a long time and he’s _so_ glad Jeno finally asked. He drops his phone into his lap, pushing back against Jeno’s weight.

“I’m worth more than that, Lee Donghyuck. What if Jaemin cries?”

“I’ll get it on camera and donate it to his fansites.”

“Generous. What if Mark-hyung cries?”

“I’ll get it on camera and sell it to the hyungs and the staff noonas for a hundred thousand won each.”

“Whoa. Profit share?”

“In your dreams.”

“Okay, okay. What if _you_ cry?”

“Won’t happen, next.”

“What if Jisungie cries?”

“I’ll—” 

“Not gonna happen,” Jisung says, cutting in flatly.

Renjun, who’s been listening in on Jeno and Donghyuck’s whole conversation with amusement, scoots over on his knees. “I’ll get it on camera and post it on Twitter,” he whispers to them.

Jisung karate chops their high-five. “Not. Gonna. Happen,” he says, louder and flatter.

 

 

He cries, of course. Jeno’s feeling a little misty himself, truth be told, and if a single, happy tear escapes the prison of his eye smile to make a run for it down his cheek, well, he can afford to be generous tonight. Nothing in this world is guaranteed, not fame nor success nor an audience, but it feels fucking good to have their hard work, their passion, their love for the fans and each other, be seen.

Renjun makes good on his promise. His photos are pretty terrible, Jisung refusing to be a still target in any of them, but it makes a great tweet. They’re all so happy they could burst. Chenle’s been hollering for the last ten minutes, practically bouncing off the walls; Mark’s got a loose, intimate arm around Renjun’s shoulders; Donghyuck is holding Jeno’s hand; and Jaemin’s got his arms around Jisung. Jisung’s gone limp in concession, neither hugging back nor pushing him away.

Maybe it’s the shock of Jisung finally reciprocating (or, well, not _not_ reciprocating), maybe it’s just the general air of euphoria in the air, but one second it’s the Na Jaemin they know and grudgingly love waltzing Jisung all around the practice room, and the next second it’s a golden retriever, using his lower point of gravity to push Jisung over so he can clamber onto him.

“What the—” Mark says, but before he can finish that sentence, the shoulders he was leaning on collapse, and he almost falls to the floor.

“Arf,” says Renjun—or more accurately, barks the frankly majestic Siberian Husky that used to be Jeno’s good friend and bandmate.

“What the fuck,” Jisung says, sounding stunned. He’s on the floor, golden retriever-Jaemin slobbering all over his face. “Is that _Renjun-hyung_?”

The stars in Chenle’s eyes have gotten so bright as he looks at Siberian Husky-Renjun that Jeno is afraid he’s going to wake up tomorrow morning sans two bandmates, one because he’ll be at the Westminster dog show, and the other because he’ll have been entered into the Westminster dog show.

Next to him, Donghyuck’s relinquishing Jeno’s hand so he can pull Jaemin off Jisung, going in for the belly rub and baby voice.

“Who’s a good boy? Who’s a good boy? Is it you, Nana? That’s right, you’re a good boy!”

Golden retriever-Jaemin thumps his tail against the floor eagerly, his tongue lolling out of his mouth. Jeno’s not, like, a snob or something, and Jaemin and Renjun are objectively both very beautiful dogs, but this is exactly why he’s a cat person. Bongshik would never let herself be subject to this level of intellectual patronizing.

Jisung is still dazed on the ground. “Renjun-hyung,” he’s muttering. “I can’t believe _that’s_ Renjun-hyung. Renjun-hyung’s the alpha?”

Siberian Husky-Renjun barks in affirmation.

 

* * *

 

**4.)**

None of them are present for Chenle’s change, because it happens when he’s at home.

But they all know about it, because the NCT 2018 group text starts buzzing at eight in the morning and doesn’t stop until ten at night. They receive probably a good one hundred photos that day of Chenle as a green snake the exact shade of clear jade, living his best life.

There’s Chenle, wrapped around his mother’s throat, the most brilliant accessory.

There’s Chenle, sunning on the dash of his family’s Porsche.

There’s Chenle again, in video form this time, slithering across a stockpile of NCT Dream We Go Up mini albums.

When the last video comes in, Jeno just holds his phone up in shock, asking someone, anyone, the universe, for an explanation.

Jaemin and Donghyuck are making the same face he is, though Renjun looks deeply unruffled.

When they all turn to him for an explanation, he just looks up in annoyance from the period Chinese drama he’s watching on his phone and says, with an eye roll, “Year of the snake, duh.”

 

* * *

 

**5.)**

Finally, it’s down to Jeno and Donghyuck.

“Not that it’s a competition,” Donghyuck begins one day while Jeno is at the bathroom sink. “But my animal is going to be way cooler than yours.”

It’s too early for this. Donghyuck is usually of the wakes-up-five-minutes-before-they-have-to-leave variety, so Jeno has no idea why he’s so alert today. Jeno, for the record, can barely keep his eyes open as he splashes water on his face.

He walks into the kitchen, Donghyuck hot on his heels. Jisung’s still passed out on the couch and Renjun’s in the other bathroom, so Jaemin’s the only one in there. He’s eyeing the espresso machine with a hungry look on his face, even though there’s already a mug in his hands. Jaemin has this existential crisis what feels like every morning, so Jeno leaves him to it, grabbing a bowl he can spoon some _jook_ into, before sliding in next to Jaemin on the bench. Donghyuck opts for a chair, turning it around so he can straddle it, and resumes staring at Jeno’s face. It would be unsettling, but this is Donghyuck. Sadly, Jeno’s used to it.

Renjun walks in, sees Donghyuck sitting there, and makes to turn around.

Unfortunately for him, Donghyuck’s already spotted him, and he grabs at the back of his tucked-in shirt, pulling it out.

“Ugh,” Renjun says, tucking his shirt back in and sitting down. “Why are you here? Don’t I see you enough?”

Donghyuck’s been staying over more often this week, kicking Jisung off the couch and back into Jaemin’s room, even though more often than not, Jeno wakes up in the middle of the night to find that Donghyuck’s crawled into his bed. He’s got the room closest to the bathroom, so he figures Donghyuck’s just cutting down on having to walk those extra five meters back to the living room. Donghyuck claims sleeping over is saving him time in the morning, but Mark still dutifully peels off at the end of the day to go back to the 127 dorms and manages to show up to where they’re supposed to meet on time.

Well, not that Jeno is really complaining. Besides Donghyuck being one of his best friends and undeniably a fun person to have around, sometimes Jeno thinks that he would nominate the way Donghyuck’s face lights up when he’s got his mind locked in on a brilliant idea for some kind of prize, he just doesn’t know what yet. The Lee Jeno Prize for Making My Objectively Shitty Lifestyle Seem Subjectively Worth It, maybe, where it can share the shortlist with the crinkle of Jaemin’s eyes when he flirts, Renjun's laugh when Jeno says something that actually delights him, and the breadth of Mark’s shoulders in a thin henley.

“Just in time, Injun,” Donghyuck says, ignoring Renjun’s question, which was what you had to do sometimes if you wanted to survive being friends with Renjun. “You can settle our competition. Who’s going to have a cooler transformation, me or no-jaem Jeno?”

“It’s really not a competition,” Jeno interjects. He’s so tired, he almost misses his mouth with his chopsticks. “Besides, Injun’s got us all beat.”

“Damn straight,” Renjun says, ignoring Donghyuck’s question in turn, which was also what you had to do sometimes if you wanted to survive being friends with Donghyuck.

Donghyuck pounds his fist on the table, and a pair of chopsticks roll onto the floor. “Don’t give up, Jeno!” he says. “Have faith that the cute and charming protagonist—that’s me—will find a way to triumph over evil in the end.”

“Cute and charming Haechannie,” Jeno says, eyes slipping shut for another few minutes of sleep before their manager calls them to the van. “I’m sorry to tell you this, but we watched the pilot and we won’t be picking your series up for this network.”

Donghyuck slides into the seat Jaemin’s just vacated in his search for additional stimulants. Donghyuck’s shoulder is way more comfortable than Jeno’s hand, so he lets Donghyuck (gently) manhandle him into position, until his cheek is pillowed perfectly in the curve of Donghyuck’s neck and his nose pressed just under Donghyuck’s jaw, where Jeno can smell: hairspray and soap, and something uniquely Donghyuck underneath all of that. When you live with four other dudes and work in close proximity with seventeen of them, you became immunized to the various smells that come with the territory real quick. Jeno probably knows Donghyuck’s smell as well as his own at this point, but having it so close to Jeno’s senses still sends a shot of dopamine straight to Jeno’s stupid lizard brain, which tells him to lick, or kiss, or bite.

“Thank you,” Jeno hums, absentmindedly pressing his mouth to where he thinks the beauty marks on Donghyuck’s throat are.

He must come pretty close, because from above him, Lee Donghyuck of the silver tongue and eternal comeback catches his breath, and then doesn’t say a word.

 _Cat got your tongue?_ is the saying that rises, unbidden, to the shallow surface of Jeno’s mind. It’s a weird English saying that first Mark, and then Johnny, had tried to parse for him, to no avail. Jeno has always pictured a boy—maybe himself—mouth gaping and empty, his useless tongue in the paws of a cat—one of his, of course, maybe Seolie—taking it and all his unsaid words back to her nest to feast on.

 

 

Donghyuck gets his answer the next day.

Jeno’s not there for the actual transformation, because after wrapping filming that day, Donghyuck had been frog-marched back to the van to the 127 dorm.

“I’ll never forget our night together!” he’d called to Jeno as he’d gone, craning his neck to look at him around Mark’s shoulder. “I’ll treasure the memory of us for the rest of my life!”

“You’re not going to _have_ a rest of your life at this point,” Jeno heard Mark say, before shoving him into the backseat. A few seconds later, Donghyuck’s multi-highlighted head popped up again to princess-wave at them through the back windshield of their van.

Laughing, Jeno had gone into his own van.

The next morning, Donghyuck is a cat.

 

 

The end of We Go Up promotions means a few glorious slow days before they have to start prepping for their next schedule, which means that they all get a few extra hours in the morning. Jeno wakes up with the sun on a Thursday, lazing around in bed until it’s ten and his stomach is protesting. When he passes by the living room, Jaemin is on the couch, his phone glued to his ear. The side of the conversation Jeno can hear goes a little something like this:

“Oh my _God._ ”

“No way.”

“ _No_.”

“Well, do you have pictures?”

“Oh my God.”

“Wow.”

And so on.

Jeno washes up, loots around in the refrigerator for something to eat, and comes up with nothing but some of Renjun’s leftover Chinese. Better to ask for forgiveness than permission, Jeno figures, and pops it into the microwave.

When he walks back out into the living room, takeout container in hand, Jaemin’s off the phone.

“Guess what,” Jaemin says, eyes huge.

“Your mom’s succulent died,” Jeno says, mouth full of mapo tofu. That had been the ‘what’ to the last time Jaemin had asked him to guess.

Jaemin rolls his eyes at him. “Uh, no. Donghyuck turned into a _cat_ this morning—”

“What.”

“—and he’s coming here.”

The doorbell rings.

Jeno and Jaemin look at each other. Jaemin touches his finger to his nose so fast he almost knocks himself out, shouting, “Not it.”

“Fuck,” Jeno swears. He checks the screen—it’s Doyoung, who waves a peace sign at him through the camera. He has a shoebox tucked under his arm.

“Good morning, hyung,” he says, when he opens the door. Jaehyun is down the hall, holding the elevator open, and they wave at each other over Doyoung’s head. “Is that Donghyuck?”

Doyoung shoves the shoebox into his arms. “You look great, Jeno,” he says, in lieu of a greeting or an answer. Jeno is wearing a ratty graying t-shirt that he’d cut the sleeves off of, and holey sleep shorts.

“Don’t open that box until you close this door,” he warns. The shoebox in Jeno’s arms has a rope tied around it, and it seems to be purring dangerously.

“Um, okay, thanks,” Jeno says. “Have a good day today, hyung!”

Doyoung is already pushing past Jaehyun to get back in the elevator. “You’re sweet, Jeno-yah,” is the last thing Jeno hears, before he closes the door.

Jeno crouches down right there in their entrance hall, pushing aside a pile of Jaemin’s sneakers and balancing the shoebox on his knee. He’s just finished untying the rope when Jaemin pokes his head around the corner.

“Is that Donghyuck?” he asks, coming closer. He’s got something in his hands.

Jeno doesn’t answer, because the minute the rope is loosened, cat-Donghyuck bursts out of the box, rolling a little with the force of his own jump, before skidding to a rest.

He raises his head, meeting Jeno’s eyes, and Jeno swears he forgets how to breathe.

“Ah,” Jaemin says knowingly. “Hey, Jeno. Catch.”

Jeno barely gets his hands up in time to protect himself from the projectile Jaemin’s launched at his head.

He looks down. It’s his allergy medicine.

 

 

Jeno's kind of freaking out. Because, like, the thing is, Donghyuck has turned into the most beautiful cat Jeno has ever seen in his goddamn _life_ , a honey golden Bengal with stripes on his forehead that sort of resemble person-Donghyuck’s highlights, and luminous blue eyes that glow silver in the light. He’s still a kitten, just big enough to sit in Jisung’s favorite oxfords and yowl at anyone who comes too close, obviously still disgruntled from the indignity of being transported in a shoebox like he’s a teenager’s stash of moldy marijuana.

“Oh my God,” Jeno murmurs, digging into his shorts pocket for his phone. “Nana, are you—” He sneezes, his eyes starting to itch and water. He doesn’t care. Cat-Donghyuck is worth it. “—are you seeing this?”

“Uh, what am I supposed to be seeing? The look on your face right now, Jeno? Because I can’t tell if you’re in love with him or if you want to eat him—” 

 

 

Twenty minutes later, Jeno’s finally managed to lure cat-Donghyuck out of Jisung’s shoe, using a combination of what Jaemin calls his cat-charmer voice and, probably more effectively, a piece of cooked chicken breast Renjun had scrounged out of the refrigerator, although only after yelling at Jeno for eating his leftovers.

Now, cat-Donghyuck is darting around their living room, chasing dust bunnies and weaving in and out of Renjun’s feet whenever he tries to get up and walk away. Renjun looks pained.

“How is he still so annoying,” his mouth is saying, but his hands are reaching down to scratch cat-Donghyuck behind the ears and pet his majestic tail, which later gets stuck up Jisung’s nose when Jisung leans down _to see if it really is Donghyuck-hyung, what if Doyoung-hyung is just playing a sick joke on—augh, ew, gross, okay, that’s definitely Donghyuck-hyung._

“He’s beautiful,” Jeno corrects absentmindedly. He opens his arms, and cat-Donghyuck launches himself at him, claws digging at the thin fabric of his shirt. His cold, wet nose touches the underside of Jeno’s chin, where Jeno can immediately feel a patch of hives forming. “Aren’t you, Donghyuckie?”

He nuzzles the top of cat-Donghyuck’s head, and deep in the recesses of his brain, there is a part of it—the animal part that could recognize Renjun by the feel of his wrist, Jisung by the weight of his stride, Jaemin by the way the charge of the room changes when he steps into it—that says, _you know this one_ , that says, _Donghyuck_ , that says, _yes_.

 

 

Good thing their promotional period just ended, because it means Jeno can spend the whole day taking pictures of cat-Donghyuck and popping antihistamines every four to six hours. Donghyuck still hasn’t changed back by nighttime, but it should be fine, says Mark, who stops by after his schedules that day to tell them Donghyuck had turned at breakfast. He also brings along a change of clothes, because when he tries to coax Donghyuck back into the mangled shoebox so he can bring him back to the 127 dorm, Donghyuck hisses and gives him a hard nip on the ankle.

“Argh,” Mark says, reaching down to bop Donghyuck on the nose. “Well, he still bites like Donghyuck.”

Jeno and Jaemin exchange a glance; they won’t ask.

When bedtime rolls around, they make Donghyuck a nest of blankets and Jeno’s shirt, which cat-Donghyuck refuses to let go of, on the couch.

“Good night, Haechannie,” Jeno says, pressing a kiss to the top of cat-Donghyuck’s head and reluctantly drifting back to his own room. The two hundred new pictures on his camera roll help, but he’s gotta admit, he’s gonna miss this Donghyuck. “See you in the morning.”

 

 

When Jeno wakes up the next morning, it’s with a sneeze and a weight on his chest. He looks down, to where Donghyuck is curled up and watching him with his silvery eyes, very clearly still a cat.

 

 

“Okay, don’t freak out.” Mark’s voice is a little tinny over speakerphone, but Jeno can still hear the steel of leadership in it, and it calms him, slightly. “Johnny-hyung says it should be fine. When Sehun-hyung changed, he stayed that way for, for—wait, wow! Really? Oh my God, that’s crazy, Sehun-hyung is amazing—”

“Mark-hyung,” Renjun interrupts, because he’s a busy man with things to do (movies to watch). “Focus.”

Sheepish laughter. “Ha, oops. Sorry, guys. Yeah, so, Sehun-hyung stayed that way for like three days! Anyway, you know Donghyuck, he’s probably just doing it on purpose at this point, trying to get out of practice or something.”

They all turn to look at Donghyuck, who’s taken up residence in Jisung’s shoe again. Donghyuck, difficult? Donghyuck, hold onto his cat form for longer than necessary out of pure stubbornness?

Well, okay, sure. Checks out.

 

 

All Jeno knows of the Bible are the few lines that Donghyuck incredulously read out loud from it when he received one from Mark as a birthday present three years ago: _On the first day, God created the heavens and earth. On the second day, God created the sky. On the third day, God created land and plants._

Donghyuck had slammed the book shut at that point, before using it to slap Mark on the arm, so Jeno never found out what was created on the fourth day, but he figures it might have been something like, _On the fourth day, God created widespread panic and anxiety-induced indigestion because Lee Donghyuck is somehow_ still _a fucking cat._

Taeyong and Mark have gone into full-on panicked leader mode, and even Johnny’s starting to look a little tight around the eyes. They had had to bring Donghyuck by the SM building the other day, wrapped in Jeno’s ratty sleep shirt so Donghyuck wouldn’t freak out in the car and try to escape and get mauled by an actual cat or something, but there wasn’t really anything anyone could do besides watch Donghyuck strut across a conference room table and rip up some letterhead during a meeting with their managers, the company doctor, and some of the higher ups.

Luckily, NCT Dream doesn’t have any group broadcasts for the next few weeks. Not so luckily, NCT 127 is in the middle of comeback preparations.

On the morning of the fifth day, their dance teacher decides that Donghyuck simply cannot miss another day of practice, no matter his species, and so Jeno, Jaemin, and Renjun, now on envoy duty because you never leave a fellow 00-liner behind, etc, bundle Donghyuck up and set out for the SM building again.

It turns out watching their hyungs practice one dance over and over again is not that interesting, no matter how cool it looks, so after about an hour of playing phone games in the corner of the practice room, Jaemin and Renjun get up to escape to the caf, Jaemin hobbling because his left leg fell asleep, and Renjun trying to kick the aforementioned leg.

“Hey,” Jeno calls.

“Yeah?” Renjun is the one who looks back, because Jaemin is clutching the wall for support as he shakes out the pins and needles in his leg.

“Can you get me some samgak kimbap? Any flavor.”

“Okay, yeah, sure,” Renjun says, already turning away to push Jaemin out the door, which means Jeno’s probably just going to end up with a bag of vinegar chips, if he’s lucky.

He’s opted to stay behind to look after cat-Donghyuck, who’s tired himself out with ignoring watching the practice in front of him in favor of nosing through the pockets of all of 127’s discarded jackets. Right now, he’s curled up in Jeno’s lap, chewing on a pair of earphones Jeno’s pretty sure belongs to Mark.

Jeno smoothes a hand down cat-Donghyuck’s pretty back, examining him for clues of—what? Signs that human-Donghyuck is still in there somewhere? Hey, Donghyuck, if you can hear this, meow thrice, in different octaves.

Donghyuck’s taken to monopolizing Jeno’s bed at night these last few days. At first, Jeno tried to keep Donghyuck in the living room, and then they tried to get him to sleep in Jaemin’s bed instead, but somehow, no matter where Donghyuck starts out at the beginning of the night, by the time they woke up, he would be curled up somewhere on top of Jeno’s sheets, a warm and familiar weight. Jeno’s resigned himself to his fate; first, it’s not exactly a burden, to wake up to a cute cat, and second, he’s found that if he pops two allergy pills before bed, he can have almost eight hours of snot-free sleep.

Their dance teacher calls for a break, and Jeno can feel in his own muscles the deep breath all of his hyungs let out. Their single this time is a return to the sonic territory of Limitless, something heavy with synths and bass, and Donghyuck and Jungwoo’s voices pitched higher and sped up serving as backing texture during the chorus. It’s seductive and a little bit sinister, and the choreography, which Taeyong had helped make, goes hard, leaving everyone sweating.

Most days, Jeno loves his job. And more importantly, he loves all of Dream. But when he watches the sharp angles and fluid lines of Taeyong’s body in the mirror, he kind of wishes for something a little more challenging for himself, or at least different. He can admit that he’d been a bit jealous when Donghyuck had been assigned to debut in two units (Mark is a freakish outlier and can’t be counted), even if that jealousy had been subsumed by the much greater joy that he was going to get to debut with some of his very best friends. 2016 had been a very emotionally complicated year, to say the least. Puberty really had been just as hard as his mom said it would be.

“Still a cat?” Johnny asks, coming over to sit next to Jeno. A drop of his sweat rolls off his forehead when he sits down and onto Jeno’s forearm.

“Still a cat,” Jeno sighs, nodding to where Donghyuck had jumped off his lap to go cuddle up to Sicheng, leaving Mark’s mangled earphones with him.

“Aw, cute,” Johnny says when he sees Donghyuck crawl up the front of Sicheng’s shirt. “How’s it been at the dorms? Your allergies holding up okay?”

“Not bad,” Jeno says. “I mean, Donghyuck is a cat, which isn’t great, but also he’s like a really, really, _really_ cute cat. But, you know. I kinda miss my friend. I mean,” he adds quickly, “we all do. Just like, the sound of Donghyuck's stupid laugh, you know? Or something.”

Johnny looks over at the tone of Jeno’s voice. Jeno’s not as close to Johnny as he is to, say, Doyoung—he suspects that they'd all drawn lots in the beginning, and then settled more naturally into their hyung-dongsaeng assignations once allegiances were drawn—but Johnny’s one of the kindest members and most beloved hyungs, not a pushover like Taeyong but not as intimidating as Yuta.

A heavy hand comes to rest on Jeno’s head, giving it a few pats.

“Donghyuck’s lucky to have a friend like you,” is all he says. “You’ll get him back soon enough.”

 

 

Jeno has known Donghyuck for a long time by now. Donghyuck’s seen him through some of his chubbiest cheeks, some of his worst voice cracks, and some of his worst crushes (they were never going to talk about that time with the thing with Jaemin, and that was definitely for the better), and vice versa. Jeno hadn’t thought Donghyuck could do anything at this point anymore to surprise him, but he guesses he hadn’t factored animal transformation into the mix.

They bring Donghyuck back to the Dream dorm after 127’s practice, because Donghyuck had scratched Taeyong when he’d tried to entice Donghyuck into going back with them.

“Ow,” Taeyong had said, looking at Donghyuck with an expression of utter betrayal as he nursed the cut on his hand.

“Sorry, hyung,” Jeno said, scooping Donghyuck up in his arms. To add insult to injury, Donghyuck immediately started purring, sticking his nose in Jeno’s ear. Jeno sneezed.

Taeyong sighed, giving Donghyuck a two-fingered noogie. “Alright, kids, go have fun. Donghyuck, you can’t stay that way forever, alright? Come back to us soon.”

 _Come back to us soon_ , is what Jeno says to Donghyuck later, too, in lieu of a goodnight. Donghyuck’s a warm, furry lump on Jeno’s pillow, and he sleepily curls his tail around Jeno’s finger when Jeno reaches out to stroke him. “I miss our cute and charming Haechannie.”

 

 

After five days of being woken up with a sneeze at around eight in the morning, Jeno’s surprised to find himself being roused awake on the morning of the sixth day not because of a sneeze, but because of overheating. The first thought that darts to the forefront of his brain is, _hey, maybe prolonged contact has finally cured my allergies_.

The second thought is, _holy shit_ , because curled around him is not cute Bengal cat Donghyuck, but real life human Donghyuck, who seems to have found a shirt and pair of boxers to wear whenever it was he turned back.

There’s hair in Jeno’s face and drool on his collarbone, but Donghyuck is making little snuffly noises whenever he breathes out, and there’s one long, tan arm stretched out across Jeno’s middle, pinning his comforter there.

Overcome, Jeno slides an arm under Donghyuck’s shoulders, and then flips them over, so that he’s pinning Donghyuck—real boy Donghyuck!—to the bed, his body solid and warm with sleep beneath Jeno’s.

“Wha—” Donghyuck says, startled. He opens his eyes and looks down to where Jeno has tucked his face into Donghyuck’s neck, not so secretly getting his fill of Donghyuck’s hairspray-and-soap smell. He pets at Jeno’s head, and Jeno relishes the feeling of Donghyuck’s fingers in his hair. “Oh hey, Jeno.”

 _Oh hey, Jeno_ , as if he hadn’t just spent five days as a cat, shaving a good decade off poor Taeyong-hyung and Mark-hyung’s lives.

Jeno noses his way up the column of Donghyuck’s throat, until he reaches his ear. “Nice of you to join us again,” he murmurs, savoring the way a shiver runs down Donghyuck’s body.

The window in Jeno’s room is set up so that there’s a section of his room that seems to attract the sun no matter where Jeno positions his bed. It’s about the time of morning where it hits his pillow, normally a good indicator that it’s time to get up. Today, it gets Donghyuck right in the face, and he has to squint a little to look at Jeno, who moves obligingly to block the worst of it. When Jeno looks back, he’s struck by how the light catches on the ridge of Donghyuck’s cheekbone and illuminates the stray hairs of his eyebrows, which are in need of a good plucking. It’s a face Jeno has been looking at for the better part of the last five years. It’s still a good face.

There’s a sleep crust in Donghyuck’s left eye, and when he yawns, right in Jeno’s face, his breath is sour with morning breath. Still, Jeno lets Donghyuck take hold of his face and bring it down to his.

Right before their mouths meet, Donghyuck says, simply, “Well, duh. I heard you say you miss me. Didn't want to keep my fans waiting any longer.”

 

 

“I liked you better as a cat,” Renjun groans, pointedly not looking at the way Donghyuck has Jeno’s fingers wrapped in his and between them on the kitchen table. “You were quiet, relatively well-behaved, and actually cute.”

“Hey!” Donghyuck says, waving his and Jeno’s conjoined hands around in indignation. “What do you mean ‘actually’?”

“I said what I said,” Renjun says darkly. He stabs his chopsticks into his fried egg. The way the yolk deflates seems to say, _this could be you_.

“Okay, but what _I_ don’t get,” Jaemin says, coming back to the table with espresso #3 of the morning, “is how you stayed that way for five whole days. The rest of us changed back in like hours. No offense, but what’s giving _you_ stress?”

Donghyuck falls suspiciously silent. When Jeno looks over, there’s a dark blush crawling up Donghyuck’s face.

“Oho,” Jaemin says, leaning across the table. “What’s this? Cat got your tongue, Donghyuckie?” He says this last part in careful, triumphant English.

It triggers an image in Jeno’s mind, the usual one of him and his gaping, empty mouth, except this time, instead of Seolie who’s got his tongue in hand, it’s cat-Donghyuck. Weirdly pleased, he lifts his and Donghyuck’s intertwined hands up to his mouth, pressing a kiss to Donghyuck’s knuckles.

“Ughhhh,” Jisung says, dropping his forehead to the table. “ _Gross_ , hyung.”

The blush is still on Donghyuck’s face, but it’s joined now by a smug, self-satisfied smile, and a swipe of his thumb over the back of Jeno’s hand.

“Well,” Donghyuck says, haughty. “ _You_ try to stay calm after spending five nights in your crush’s bed.”

**Author's Note:**

> \- despite having two (2) half-finished nct wips that should be taken much more seriously than this, somehow [this idea](https://twitter.com/mouthkissed/status/1039367447374118912) highjacked my brain and refused to let go until i'd written uhhh 7k words of it
> 
> \- i'm on [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/mouthkissed) and [cc](https://curiouscat.me/mouthkissed) ♡
> 
>  
> 
> **edit:**
> 
>  
> 
> for anyone wondering what jeno's animal would be, I've written a [very short snippet](https://twitter.com/mouthkissed/status/1041914167324762112) addressing that on twitter hehe. thanks for reading!


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